Life Goes On
by Lonestarr
Summary: Things change and those who hang on to the past won't have much of a future.
1. Living the Dream

Disclaimer: The characters in this fanfiction are the property of the following: Butch Hartman, Frederator and Nickelodeon. I am but a humble writer who, unfortunately, makes no money from this story.

Chapter 1 - Living the Dream

(...Dimmsdale High...seven years into the future...)

The halls of the school are jammed with teenagers trying to get to different destinations. There's nothing too out of the ordinary here: students stuffing papers and books into their lockers, jocks stuffing nerds into trash cans, friends chatting with each other. Speaking of which...

Three handsome lads make their way through the corridor. One runs a hand through his blonde hair and adjusts the strap on his backpack. Another takes a pencil from behind his ear and checks over an assignment. In between them is a brown-haired young man.

"Chester, did you do last night's algebra homework?"

"How long have we known each other, A.J.? I think we all know the answer to that question", said the blonde.

"How about you, Timmy?"

Timmy doesn't respond. The far-off look on his face seems to suggest that he's lost in thought about something.

"Timmy..."

"What? No, I haven't, but..."

"But what?"

"I was thinking: this is our last year of school. Doesn't it strike you that none of us managed to find anyone...you know...special?"

"That's the way high school is, Timmy."

From his binder, A.J. produces a chart.

"You see, popular people date other popular people and jocks date cheerleaders."

"And where does that leave guys like us?"

Chester and A.J. look at each other, then back at Timmy.

"Um..."

The bell rings. The two rush off to class.

"Whoa. There's the bell."

"See you later, Timmy!"

The two friends disappear into a classroom. Timmy looks around the deserted hallway.

Out of nowhere, Cosmo and Wanda pop in.

"Hey, there, honey", chimes the pink-haired fairy. She notices the sad look on his face.

"What's the matter, Timmy?"

"Where do I start? It's my last year of high school. You'd think I'd have found a girlfriend by now."

"You shouldn't rush these things. There's someone out there for everyone. The important thing is to be patient."

"Also, I tried talking to Chester and A.J. about it, but they just ran off."

"Yeah. If it wasn't for the bell, they'd have given you an answer."

Timmy rolls his eyes a bit at Cosmo's contribution.

"It doesn't matter too much now, anyway. I'm _so_ late for Biology."

The two fairies pop away as Timmy rushes down the hall.

(...moments earlier...)

A dark-haired girl and a fair-haired guy stand in the hall near a row of lockers. The girl is wearing dark blue pants and a pink sweater. She had loved that garment ever since she was younger. It was thought that she'd outgrown it, but, given the brisk November weather Dimmsdale was experiencing, there was no question as to its usefulness.

"I tell you, Trixie, I've been having the time of my life with you."

"I know you have, Ethan. By the way, are you familiar with the old saying 'All good things must come to an end.'?"

"Well, sure, I-- wait, what are you saying?"

"I think the two of us have grown apart. I won't waste time with details, so I'll sum it up: I'm bored with you."

"I don't think I caught that. How could you get bored with me?"

"All you did was take me to the same places: the movies, the park, restaurants. Just yawn, yawn, yawn!"

"I thought that girls liked that stuff. Regular girls, anyway."

"I am not a regular girl."

"Well, since we're breaking up, I feel that I should tell you something: lose the shallowness. No one will want a girl like you."

As Ethan storms off, Trixie stands at a locker, glaring and stewing.

"I can't believe he called me shallow! I swear, if he didn't have such a cute butt, I'd be offended. You know, I've half a mind to hook up with the next guy I see. _That'll_ show him who's shallow."

Trixie takes off down the hall. At that moment, Timmy turns a corner and stops short of running into her.

"Whoa. I'm sorry, Trixie. It's just that I'm really late and--"

"Oh, think nothing of it, um...uh..."

"Timmy. Turner?"

Trixie looks at him nervously; after all these years, he's still a hole in her memories. Timmy exhales.

"Empty bus seat."

"Oh, Tommy. I thought I recognized you."

Trixie runs her finger around Timmy's shirt.

"You know, I'm currently without a boyfriend, and you just happened to come along. Maybe you could...be mine?"

Timmy's lips start to quiver. A dopey smile forms on his face.

"S-sure, Trixie."

She gives him a peck on the cheek and walks away. Timmy turns to gaze at her. He rubs the spot where she kissed him.

(...outside Dimmsdale High...that afternoon...)

The students file out of the building. Chester and A.J. amble along. Timmy comes up from behind them and throws his arms around them.

"Hey, guys. Isn't it a great day?"

"Sure, now that it's over."

"Why are you so happy all of a sudden?", inquired the bald one.

"Well, it might have something to do with fulfilling a life-long dream."

"What? Do you own your own baseball team?"

"No, Chester. That's your dream."

"Oh, yeah."

"Can't you just tell us?"

Timmy moves his mouth to speak, but a lilting voice calls out.

"Hey, Tommy..."

Just then, four guys turn around. Tommy, er, Timmy waves back at her.

"Trixie...!"

She runs into his arms and plants a kiss on his lips. She hands him a backpack and the two of them walk off. Chester and A.J. can't help but stare at the seemingly improbable sight.

"A.J...."

"Yeah?"

"Did that just happen?"

"You mean Timmy and Trixie walking together, hand in hand?"

"Yeah."

"I think they've been giving us _way _too much homework."

"Does this mean we have to do another story?"

"I hope not. My permanent record can't survive another blemish like that."

(...further down the sidewalk...)

"So...um...would you like to...? Wait! I mean that...what can I do to you? _For_ you! What can I...? Do you think we could--"

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?", the dark-haired girl asked.

'_Emphasis on _trying', Timmy thought to himself.

"Yes."

"Well, that sounds great...as long as it's not the movies, the park or any restaurants."

"Not a problem, Trixie."

Timmy felt a little guilty. The relationship he had wanted for so long was barely a few hours old and, already, he was lying to Trixie. He figured that a lot of girls - regular girls - would appreciate going to those places.

He was forced to be creative. One glance at the popular brunette, who shot him a coquettish look, was all he needed.

"Hey! How 'bout going to the mall after school tomorrow?"

"The mall?"

"Yeah. I'm sure that we can work something out there."

"Okay, but don't you go disappointing me", she said as she took back her backpack.

Before stepping onto the school bus, Trixie looks at him once more and smiles.

Timmy watches as the bus pulls out and into traffic.


	2. Surprise, Surprise

Chapter 2 - Surprise, Surprise

(...Dimmsdale Mall...the next afternoon...)

As expected, the building teems with people coming and going. On a bench sits Timmy. The school day seemed to go on forever, almost as if the fates found some spare time to mock his dream. He looks around and lets out a sigh. His eyes wander a bit until they catch sight of an attractive young lady in a halter top and jeans.

"Wow."

"Hope you don't mind. I had to change."

"That's all right. It was totally worth the 45-minute wait", Timmy remarked with a notable absence of sarcasm.

"So...what do we do?"

"Well, we could..."

Timmy choked. He'd spent so much time waiting for the date that he hadn't planned it. He looks around at the many stores: Record Ranch, Stacks o' Knick Knacks, Nothin' But Greeting Cards (Timmy couldn't help but think 'Wow. They have stores for _everything_, nowadays.'). None of them seemed right. His eyes stop on a familiar place: ComicZone.

"...go get some comic books."

Just then, Trixie burst out laughing.

"Comics? That is good", she said as she wiped away a tear.

The pained look on Timmy's face proved that only she got the joke.

"Oh. You were serious."

Timmy remembered how he - incognito - ran into Trixie in there seven years ago.

"I thought you might've liked them."

"I might've once, perhaps..." she stated, her voice trailing off, "...but that stuff's for little kids."

Timmy gulped.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"We could go to Abyss. They always have a sale going on."

"Okay", the young man said as he shrugged his shoulders.

(...the food court...20 minutes later...)

Timmy and Trixie sit at a table. She reaches into a tote bag and pulls out a yellow garment.

"Isn't this fleecy tee just the greatest?"

"Wha-- Oh, yeah. Great."

Trixie puts the shirt back in the bag.

"How about we get something to eat?"

"Okay."

The couple scan the various eateries: Veg Out (a salad bar), Das Sub, 101 Flavors (which serves ice cream), Year of the Hungry Goat (a Chinese food place) and Mexican Border, among others.

"You think any of these places have low-carb menus?"

Timmy couldn't help but glare irritatedly at Trixie for that remark. Like a lot of people, he had grown quite weary of the low-carb craze, which, inexplicably, managed to survive for many years.

"We could always go to McKinney's."

"Ugh! No way! Have you ever been there?"

"Uh, yeah. That's why I suggested it."

"The food there is so greasy and fattening. And the people that work there...! I wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that."

Timmy sighs deeply.

"How about a salad?", he states flatly.

(...the Turner's house...that night...)

"...and this is the living room. So, what do you think?"

"Well, it's very...plain."

Timmy slumps down on the couch.

"Thanks."

"Oh, don't worry. It's not so bad."

As Trixie sits down beside him, Timmy stares ahead. Just then, his parents walk in.

"Hello, Timmy. Hello, Trixie", the adults greet in unison.

Mr. and Mrs. Turner stop suddenly and look back at the girl on their couch. They run to face the younger couple.

"Hi, uh, Tommy's parents," the rich girl said politely.

"Hello."

Mr. Turner reaches his hand out and pokes Trixie in the arm.

"Dare I ask what's going on?"

"Oh, nothing, Timmy", his mother fibbed.

The two adults walk up the stairs.

"Our son going out with Trixie Tang?"

"Yeah. It's like some parallel universe. Did Timmy have a goatee?"

"Honey..."

The Turners enter their bedroom.

"You know, honey, I think someone owes someone twenty dollars."

Mr. Turner extends his hand to his wife, but she folds her arms and glares at him.

"Fine."

The man digs in his pants pockets, but finds them empty. He looks in his wallet, which is just as vacant as the pockets. He dashes out of the room and down the stairs. Timmy is still staring ahead. A shadow falls on him. He looks to his side and gazes up at his father.

"Timmy, can I borrow twenty bucks?"

(...Timmy's room...an hour later...)

Timmy sits down on his bed and hunches over, holding his head in his hands.

Cosmo and Wanda pop in on either side of him.

"Oh, Timmy. Why so glum?"

Timmy opens his mouth, but Cosmo cuts in.

"I know. It's his bad posture."

Cosmo straightens Timmy out and dusts him off with his hands.

"One of the first things girls notice about you is posture."

Wanda takes her husband aside.

"Cosmo...!"

"...is right."

"He is?"

"I am?"

"Well, not about posture, but the part about the girls. I thought being with Trixie would be great, but it's not. She's as big a snob as ever."

"I suppose you'll be breaking up with her."

"Yeah, I guess. I just need to find the right way to do it."

(...Dimmsdale High...the next day...)

"_Someone like Trixie might be a little more sensitive than other girls_."

Trixie runs spiritedly through the halls. She, literally, bumps into Timmy and wraps him in a hug.

"Oh, Tommy, I've missed you so much", she said in a tone guaranteed to draw attention.

"I missed you too, Trixie, even though it's only been twelve hours since we last saw each other."

In the midst of the hug, Trixie spots Ethan putting some books into a locker.

"We make such a great couple. I can't imagine _anyone_ better than you."

Trixie releases him from the hug. Ethan turns to face them, his curiosity peaked by her yelling. She takes Timmy's hand in her own and they walk down the hall.

"That's the best she could do? Meryl Streep, she's not", Ethan snorted as he walks into a classroom, past a girl with long black hair and glasses. She glances at the couple down the hall, then heads inside the same room.

"So, how have you been?"

"Fine. Trixie--"

"I've been all right. You know, there's a game tonight; we're playing the Cougars."

"That's sounds...good."

"Great. See you there."

Trixie gives him a kiss and runs off.

"I think we should see other people", Timmy said to no one in particular.

"_Ladies and gentlemen_..."

(...a football field...that night...)

"...presenting the Dimmsdale Sharks!"

The crowd cheers enthusiastically for the school's football team as they rush onto the field. From the sidelines, the cheerleading squad roots the home team on.

From the bleachers, Trixie cheers. Next to her is Timmy, his hands in his pockets. He exhales and his eyes go wide when he sees his breath as a cloud in front of him.

"I can't believe how cold it is out here."

"Maybe you should've brought gloves, like me."

Timmy faces ahead and tries to focus on the game.

(...45 minutes later...)

Trixie takes off her gloves and sets them aside. Timmy rubs his hands together and blows on them. He looks down at them and smiles a bit.

"My hands were getting kind of sweaty."

"Trixie, do you think that I could borrow your gloves?"

"I don't know, Tommy. How would it look if a guy was wearing expensive ladies' gloves?"

"Um...like his lady friend really cared about the warmth of his hands?"

Trixie playfully shoves him.

"You're so funny."

Timmy loses his balance somewhat and, in his attempt to steady himself, he knocks Trixie's gloves from the bleachers to the ground.

"Oh. Could you get my gloves, please?"

"Can I wear them?"

"Again, there's that sense of humor I love so much."

"But, Trixie--"

Trixie nods her head down, blinks rapidly and pouts at him.

"All right."

Timmy steps over the various patrons until he ends up on the ground. He spots the gloves lying in a patch of grass. He steps under the bleachers and approaches the patch. Timmy bends down and grabs the gloves.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to Dimmsdale's own, our cheerleading squad!"

At hearing this announcement, Timmy stands to his feet and peers out between the legs of a spectator. The girls perform a number of flips and tumbles, which garner applause.

"Hey you guys, this ain't no dream, we're cheering for the winning team! Can't you see it, don't you know, silly Cougars got to go!"

However, Timmy's attention is drawn to a girl with long, dark hair and glasses. As he glares at the mystery girl, he thought to himself, '_Could it be?_'

Just as he finished his thought, the girl turns over her shoulder in his direction...and winks. Was she looking at Timmy? He assumed that no one could see him from under there. The girl joins her fellow cheerleaders in the routine. Timmy thought some more about her: the long hair threw him off, but her face (and glasses) seemed vaguely familiar. Timmy squinted at the cheerleader. His heart skipped a beat when he put it all together.

"Tootie?!"

(...Timmy's room...a couple of hours later...)

Timmy frantically paces.

"I can't believe it...Tootie?! But how...she was...but _now_...whoa."

Just then, his two fairies pop in.

"Timmy...careful, sweetie. You're making us dizzy."

"Come on, Wanda. It's not so bad."

"What's wrong?"

"Where do I begin? I couldn't break up with Trixie and now I find that the girl who had a crazy crush on me is a hottie, now", Timmy relates as he falls to his bed.

"And this is a problem, how?"

"Cosmo!"

"Hey, I may not be that bright, but even I could figure out who I'd choose."

Timmy looks up at Cosmo.

"What Cosmo's trying to say, I hope, is that you should follow you heart."

"Thanks, you guys...I think."

Timmy stares at the ceiling, a thoughtful look on his boyish face.

(...Dimmsdale High...the next morning...)

Timmy makes his way through the crowd of people to his locker. He opens it and grabs a couple of books. He closes the door and is greeted by the sight of Trixie.

"Hi, Tommy. I was thinking that for our second date, we could--"

Timmy raised his hand, urging her to stop.

"Trixie, I'm afraid there won't be a second date. Wait, wasn't the football game our second date?"

"Not really. It wasn't very intimate."

"Hmmm, I guess not. Anyway, I really need to say something to you."

By this point, the whole of the students are hanging on their every word.

"I'd been dreaming about this for such a long time, and now that it's happened, I'm a little...disappointed."

"What do you mean, 'disappointed'?"

"I thought I fell in love with the perfect girl: pretty, popular. But, in the last few days, I've found that I fell for an image, an ideal, a flashily-wrapped present with nothing inside. I thought about it for two hours last night. Actually, I thought about it for five minutes last night. I spent the rest of the time figuring out the best way to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Wait, now that I think about it, _that _was four minutes and 30 seconds longer than I really needed..."

"Tell...me...what?!"

Timmy took a deep breath.

"I'm breaking up with you."

"What?!"

"I'm breaking u--"

"I heard you, and so did the whole damn school!"

"I'm sorry, but this is something I had to do."

"I can't believe you! You don't know what you're giving up, Tommy!"

"I think I do. And, for the record, my name is Timmy, all right? Tim-my."

Timmy walks off and the crowd erupts in excited gossip and assorted 'ooohs'. Trixie stands in the hall, her mouth agape. She couldn't fathom the sad truth: she had been dumped.


	3. Growing Pains

Chapter 3 - Growing Pains

(...Timmy's room...five months later...)

The last few months had passed rather uneventfully. Nothing had changed too much in Timmy's life. To this day, he was known around Dimmsdale High as the guy who showed Trixie Tang the door. Every so often, someone would stop him in the hall and make a big thing out of it. The truth is that Timmy could've cared less about what happened between he and Trixie.

Ever since that night at the game, thoughts of another brunette filled his head: Tootie. The way she looked, the way she moved; it was like she was a different person. Every time he saw her, he mulled talking to her, but then A.J.'s words would present themselves: "...jocks date cheerleaders." Timmy was neither a jock nor a guy who would appreciate being pummeled by one for talking to his girl.

On top of that, there was a provision that would affect all children in the possession of fairy godparents.

"What do you mean I lose you guys when I turn 18?!", Timmy demands.

"I was sure that Cosmo told you. _Didn't he_?"

"I knew I forgot something."

"This is so unfair."

With a wave of the wand, Da Rules appears before Wanda.

"I know, Timmy, but it's in the rule book: 'Upon reaching the age of 18 - the traditional age of adulthood - a godchild will lose his fairy godparents forever.'."

As the book disappears, Timmy sits on his bed.

"I can't believe this."

"Don't worry."

"At the very least, we still have lots of time before you turn 18."

A noise from outside Timmy's room causes the brown-haired teen to leap from his bed and open the door. His parents rush by with rolls of wrapping paper in their arms.

"Oh, don't mind us, Timmy. We're just preparing for your 18th birthday."

"After all, it's only a few days away", his mother states cheerfully.

Timmy closes his door. He leans against it and sinks to the floor.

"Wonderful."

(...hours later...)

Having cried himself to sleep (a very rare occurrence), Timmy rests in bed. His fishbowl, however, was short a fish.

(...in the sky...the stroke of midnight on April 22nd...)

Out of nowhere, a new star appears in the crowded field next to a slightly bigger one. With each sentence, the stars illuminate.

"I take it he knows about the provision?", a booming, German-accented male voice intones.

"Yes. I understand that we'll have to leave him forever, but do his memories really have to be erased?", a lilting female voice responds.

"They must. The existence of fairies must remain a secret. We can't afford another Denzil Crocker."

"But Timmy is different. If we could just--"

"The subject is not open for further discussion!"

"Yes, sir."

(...Dimmsdale High...the next morning...)

Timmy shuffles down the hall, a dejected look on his face. He perks up at seeing the girl of his dreams, Tootie, a few yards away. His shuffle becomes a dash, but it's for nothing; Tootie doesn't even notice him as she walks into a classroom. He skids to a stop. The bell rings, and he heads for another room.

(...a classroom...)

A number of students file into the room. Tootie, meanwhile, stands at the desk at the front of the class. Before her is a youthful, dark-haired man.

"Tootie, have you been thinking about college?"

"Mr. McKenzie, you know I have."

"I've been looking over your grades. Not just for my class, but for all of them. Do you have any idea how many scholarships you could be eligible for?"

"I'm just trying to do my best. I never put much thought into it."

"Well, think about this", the teacher said as he hands her a flier. Tootie takes it and heads for an empty seat.

Mr. McKenzie motions toward the blackboard, which has 'Walt Whitman' written on it in chalk.

He starts to talk about the famous poet, but, for once, Tootie isn't paying attention. She stares intently at the piece of paper given to her. The brunette is hooked from the opening lines:

'Around the end of the last year of high school, a number of students think about the next step in their education: college. We are aware of the struggles that people have paying for an institution of higher learning. Do we have an offer for you! To a senior of outstanding academic merit (at least a 3.5 average), we will provide a healthy amount of financial help. Be advised that such an offer is not without certain...requirements. In an essay of no less than 1000 words, tell us what you think education means to you, how much it means and how life can be enriched by it. Deadline: May 28th. Sponsored by the Tang Foundation.'

(...Timmy's room...four days later...)

Timmy gazes out of his window at the night sky.

"I can't believe it. Tomorrow, I lose the two of you forever."

The young man buries his head in his hands and cries.

"Oh, Timmy. Please don't be sad about this."

"Couldn't I just wish myself younger?"

"Well, you could, but..."

"But..."

Da Rules appears before Wanda.

"Sooner or later, you'd have to turn 18."

Timmy opens his mouth to speak.

"And you can't wish to never turn 18."

"Nuts."

"Cheer up, Timmy. Just because you'll never see us again doesn't mean we can't have some fun", stated the green-haired fairy.

"Yeah. You're right. If it's my last night with you guys, I should have fun."

"That's the spirit!"

"I wish I could go skydiving!"

A wave of the wands and...poof!

(...a plane...moments later...)

The aircraft cuts through the sky, which is red because of the setting sun. Timmy stands near the open door. A skydiving instructor is at his side.

"Where are we?", he shouts, so as to be heard over the roar of the plane's engine.

"I'd say somewhere over the Midwest."

"Is this safe?"

"Perfectly. You just have to make sure you pull the ripcord at the right time."

"Okay."

"On the count of three. One..."

Timmy exhales.

"...Two..."

He readies to jump.

"...Three!"

The young man leaps out of the plane. He flows through the air, yelling the whole way. At such an altitude, light-headedness is to be expected, and Timmy was no exception. A couple hundred feet later, Timmy reaches for the ripcord and pulls it...but nothing happens.

"Oh, nuts."

The ground starts to get a lot closer. The yelling that once stood for excitement now constituted fear.

"I wish I had a parachute!"

In a puff of smoke, the request is granted. Timmy is jerked higher up by the gust of wind carrying the pink-hued parachute. Timmy looks up and smiles.

"Feeling better, sweetie?"

"A lot. Thanks."

"Is there anything else you want to do?"

"You'd think so, but no. Not really."

Timmy knew well enough that, over the last few years, he'd been everywhere and done everything because of Cosmo and Wanda. Skydiving was one of the few things he hadn't done. As he floated to the ground, he reflected on the many good times.

(...Timmy's room...a couple of hours later...)

Timmy rests on his bed.

"Wow. This may sound weird, but I'm kind of going to miss those near-death experiences."

Cosmo floats beside him. "If we can get a response like that out of one godchild, then it was all worth it."

All of a sudden, the room starts to shake.

"What's going on? Is this an earthquake?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Timmy, could you turn down that earthquake up there?", shouts his father.

At that moment, the shaking stops and a light appears in the room. Timmy and his fairies shield their eyes from the brightness. An imposing, muscular figure steps out of the light.

"Timmy Turner..."

The young man lowers his arm and stares at the apparent source of the ruckus: Jorgen Von Strangle.

"It is time."

"Already? But we only have..."

Timmy checks his watch. It reads 11:59:12 and it's still ticking. He lets out a sigh.

"Don't I have time to say goodbye?"

"If you must."

Timmy turns to his fairies.

"I want to thank the two of you. I've had so much fun all these years. And I've learned so much. At least, I'll have the memories."

Wanda had been trying to keep her composure, but at this point, there was nothing to stop her from allowing her tears to flow freely. Cosmo joins her in weeping, followed by Timmy. The three wrap each other in perhaps the biggest hug they ever experienced.

"I love you guys."

Jorgen clears his throat.

Timmy lets go and watches as the two fairies fly away.

"I'll miss you."

"No, you won't", Wanda said quietly as she flew back and kissed him on the forehead.

The three magical beings disappear in a blinding flash of light.

(...the next morning...)

Timmy tosses and turns in his bed. The alarm in his watch chimed 7:00am. He groans in response. The chiming ends and the brown-haired lad can once again enjoy peace and quiet...

For about three seconds...

"Timmy!", the Turners shout in unison.

Another groan from the young man as he turns away and wraps his pillow around his head.

The door bursts open.

"Happy 18th birthday!"

"Can't I sleep some more; two or three hours?"

"No, you can't!" they cheerfully declare.

Timmy turns over and faces his parents.

"Fine. Even though it's just another day."

The Turners leave the room. Timmy sits up and stretches. He looks over at...the empty fishbowl on his otherwise vacant night table. He shrugs his shoulders and stands to his feet.

(...the living room...15 minutes later...)

A fully-dressed Timmy sits on the couch surrounded by open packages of socks and underwear. The sullen look on his face showed (pretty clearly) that he could've cared less about what was happening. His birthday had truly become just another day.

"I know that you're impressed with these gifts, Timmy, but the best is yet to come."

(...the front lawn...)

Timmy's parents lead him outside. His backpack in hand, the young man looks out at the package in the driveway: a car covered in wrapping paper.

"I wonder what it could be", Timmy cracks flatly.

"Let me tell you, it was no picnic getting the wrapping paper around the car, but with me supervising, your mother was able to get the job done."

Mrs. Turner elbows her husband in the stomach. Mr. Turner reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key.

"Wanna take her for a drive?"

"Sure", Timmy drones as he takes the key.

Timmy rips most of the wrapping paper off and climbs in, leaving a few scraps attached with tape on the bumper and roof. The engine starts up and the car pulls into traffic. The Turners wave at their son.

"There goes our son, honey."

"Yes, but it's weird."

"What?"

"You think he'd be happy about getting a new car."

"Yeah."


	4. Misery Needs Company

Chapter 4 - Misery Needs Company

(...Dimmsdale High...15 minutes later...)

Timmy pulls up to the school, but he is unable to locate a parking space. He grumbles as he turns a corner and eases between two cars.

As he gets out with his books, Chester and A.J. run up to him.

"Whoa. Nice wheels."

"What's the occasion?"

"My birthday", Timmy states indifferently.

"Oh. Happy birthday."

"You sure sound excited about it", A.J. says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Why should I be?"

"Are you sure you're not dead? You've got a car! You can go places with it."

"The bus serves the same function."

"So, let's see if I get this: your birthday's today and you have a car..."

"Yep."

"...but you're miserable."

"Yep."

"I'll never figure you out, Timmy."

"I don't know what's wrong, you guys. It's like I've lost something important, but I don't know what it is. You ever felt like that?"

"Hmm. Nah."

"Can't say I have."

Timmy sighs as the three of them enter the school.

(...the park...that afternoon...)

The rest of the day was a blur to Timmy. He was unable to muster any energy for his classes. In his advanced state of lethargy, he most likely shouldn't have been driving, but he couldn't leave his car on school grounds.

He drives by the park, but stops suddenly. He spots Tootie sitting under a tree reading a book. He parks the car and walks toward the dark-haired young woman.

A shadow casts over her. She looks up at the source of the shade.

"Oh. Hi, Timmy."

"Hi, Tootie", he replied nervously.

A brief pause.

"Can I help you with something?", she said, slightly irritated.

"Well, yeah. You see, today's my 18th birthday."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks, and I know I should be happy about it, but I'm not. It feels like a part of me - a big part - is missing. I need someone in my life to make it complete. For some reason, I thought that someone was Trixie Tang."

"So...you and her aren't dating anymore?"

"Yeah. We broke up five months a--"

"I knew that, Timmy. I was just messing with you."

"I don't quite know how to say this, but...I...well..."

"You...well...what?"

"I guess, in a way, I've always known that _you_ were that someone."

Tootie puts down her book, holding it with her thumb to keep her place.

"Timmy..."

"Yes?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about this. I've dreamt about this moment so much, and every time, I didn't know what to say. A few years ago, I decided to give up on you. Sure, it hurt, but I couldn't let this eat me up, and I knew that deep down, you would love me, someday."

Timmy hunches down to her level.

"And now...seeing you here...I still don't know to say."

The brown-haired young man looks off away from his long-time admirer.

"You don't have to say anything, Tootie. It's just...well, I'm sorry. For everything. Do you think we could ever get together?"

Timmy turns back to face Tootie, a huge grin plastered on her pretty face. As if she were part amphibian, she leaps at Timmy and smothers him in kisses. After a few moments, she stops.

"Sorry about that, Timmy. Old habits are hard to break."

"Oh, it's not so bad..._now_, anyway", Timmy laughs.

Tootie playfully punches him in the arm. She looks into his eyes. "So, you wanna go do something?"

"I don't know. It might be too soon."

"Oh." Tootie rolls off of Timmy, disappointment in her voice.

The two of them lie on the grass side by side. They look up at the sky. A few moments pass.

Tootie turns to face Timmy.

"How about now?"

Timmy rolls on his side.

"Works for me. How about a movie?"

"Okay. What's playing?"

Timmy stands up. "I don't know. There has to be something."

He outstretches his hand to Tootie and brings her to her feet. She gathers her things and the couple runs to his car.

(...outside Tootie's house...four hours later...)

Timmy's car pulls up to the house. He gets out and hurries to the other side to open the passenger-side door.

Tootie steps out of the car. "Why, thank you."

The two of them walk to the door.

"How'd you enjoy the movie?"

"It was...all right."

"Just all right?"

"I wouldn't thought of _The Crimson Chin Returns_ as ideal first-date material."

"Sorry. I really wanted to see it, and I'm kinda new to the whole romance thing."

"Don't worry, Turner." She kisses him on the lips. "With some practice, you'll figure it out."

Timmy is in a daze as Tootie opens her front door.

"See you tomorrow." She flashes a cute smile and enters her house.

The door closes, but Timmy is still there. The door opens once more, snapping the young man out of his trance.

"Um, the date's over. You can go home now."

"Oh! Right. Right."

Timmy turns around and heads for his car.

As Tootie watches, the vehicle moves down the street.

"God, how I love him."

(...the halls of Dimmsdale High...the next day...)

Students scramble through the corridors. Looking a lot happier, Timmy is one of them. Chester and A.J. join him at either side.

"You're looking better."

"Feeling better, A.J."

"That's good. Wait..." Chester thought about it a bit, then raised an eyebrow. "Okay, who is she?"

"She? What do you mean, 'she'?"

"Do you really want to play this game or do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Timmy shrugs his shoulders. "Truthfully, I like the game better."

"Yesterday, you were moping - on your _birthday_ - and now, you're happy."

"A lot can change in one day."

Timmy stops at Tootie's locker. She puts some of her books into it.

"Hey."

Without a word, the dark-haired girl throws her arms around Timmy. He returns the gesture, much to the interest (and disgust, in some cases) of the surrounding people.

She runs her finger around his shirt and makes her way to his face. "We all set for after school?"

"Sure."

Tootie pecks him on the cheek and walks off.

Timmy rubs his cheek and stares. Remembering himself, he looks to his friends.

"What? I need a tutor."

"Not as much as she needs you. Whoa."

"This is quite surprising."

"Why?"

"Well, I never thought you'd find someone so quickly. I figured that something would happen in college."

"Also, who knew that you'd find such a hottie?"

"You guys _do_ know that was Tootie, right?"

Their jaws drop.

"Catch you guys later." Timmy takes off down the hall, a smile on his face.

Chester and A.J. stand in the hall.

"We've been at this school for four years. How did we miss that?"

"I don't know."

"_Okay..._"

(...the library...that afternoon...)

"Let's see what we're up against."

Timmy and Tootie sit at a table in between the stacks. He pulls an algebra textbook out of his bag and sets it down.

She glances at him as he opens it.

"Wait, algebra is your trouble class?"

He looks up at her. "Actually, they're all trouble classes; too much trouble to take. Algebra's just my worst subject."

"How much trouble?"

"The straight-C type of trouble."

"Not a lot of colleges accept those kind of grades."

"There is one."

"Timmy..."

"Like Chester says, 'Community college is still college.'."

"Anyway, algebra is no problem. It's just regular math with letters." She points to a problem. "Like this one: 'Solve for x - 6x 24 54'."

The tutoring continued and though it took some time to sink in, Timmy, ultimately, figured out what Tootie was trying to tell him.

(...outside Tootie's house...a couple of hours later...)

Timmy's car pulls up.

"Do you get it now?"

"I think so, and even if I don't, I'm still doing better than in elementary school."

"How do you mean?"

"I had this crazy teacher: Mr. Crocker. I worked as hard as I could and he gave me nothing but 'Fs'. I think he was out to get me. Never could figure out why, though."

"Well, that's all in the past. What matters is the future."

The two of them kiss.

"I couldn't agree more."

They get out of the car.

"Can I walk you to your door?"

Tootie suddenly grows nervous. Timmy walks to the door, but she stands in his way.

"Um, no, that's all right."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just...the place is a mess and I wouldn't want you to be disgusted."

"Are you kidding?" Timmy steps around her. "I, practically, live in squalor. Well, not the traditional kind, but more of the dirty-clothes-and-candy-bar-wrappers variety."

"But...the house is being fumigated for...uh...silverfish! Nasty little things. This place is absolutely unlivable."

The curtains fly open and a somewhat older woman bearing a strong resemblance to Tootie appears in the window.

"Honey, Tootie's home!"

The younger woman sighs as the door opens. The older woman embraces her daughter. Timmy raises an eyebrow.

(...Tootie's house...moments later...)

The young couple sits together on the couch. Her father - a red-headed man with a face full of stubble - sits opposite them in a chair.

Timmy leans over. "This is why you didn't want me to come in? Your parents? Obviously, you forget where I come from."

"So, you're the infamous Timmy Turner. I've heard so much about you from my daughters."

Tootie gulps a bit.

"Well, sir, with all due respect, there's one daughter of yours I'm concerned about."

"Funny you should mention that."

"Dad..."

"Yes, Toots?"

"Don't you have a...thing to do?"

"Hmm...no, I don't think so."

Footsteps can be heard from above.

Tootie groans a bit.

Her mother walks in. "Hello. Is everything all right in here?"

"Can't imagine why it wouldn't be, honey."

Timmy turns to Tootie. "What's going on? You've been acting weird since you got here."

"Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Mom!"

The footsteps grow louder as they descend the stairs.

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just gonna grab some snacks."

The red-headed young woman gets to the bottom of the stairs and gasps. Her look of surprise quickly becomes a look of animosity. Her eyes lock with those of the brown-haired gentleman on the couch. The looks on their faces say more than words ever could. Most words, anyway;

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?!"

"I should ask you the same thing."

Tootie buries her head in her hands.

Her mother frowns. "So, that's a no on dinner?"


	5. Family Matters

Chapter 5 - Family Matters

(...the dining room...moments later...)

The family and their guest sit at the dinner table. Timmy never takes his eyes off of the red-head who, for many years, struck terror in his heart and life. That cold-hearted individual known as...

"Vicky. I thought you were going out tonight", Tootie said hopefully.

"No such luck. There's nothing to do in town, so I thought I'd stay home."

"How wonderful."

Vicky turns to Tootie's companion.

"So, twerp. How's life been treating you?"

Timmy puts on a confident smile. "Better."

"Nice, nice." Vicky turns back to her sister. "You think I could talk to you for a moment?"

"About what?"

"Sisterly stuff, you know? The choices we make in life; that sort of thing."

The two younger women get up and walk to the stairs.

"I'll ask again: what the hell is he doing here?"

"Do we have to go through this now?"

"I can't think of a better time. You _know_ how I feel about him!"

"And you know how _I _feel about him!"

"But of all the guys in your school - in the world - why him?"

Tootie stares a bit at Vicky.

"I don't think you could ever understand."

"Understand what? He's a loser!"

"The only loser here is the one I'm looking at. I don't think we have anything more to talk about."

Tootie storms back to the table and takes a seat.

Timmy turns to her. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy!", she snaps.

He faces forward, a bit shaken by her outburst.

Vicky heads for the door.

Her father notices her. "Vicky, aren't you staying for dinner?"

"Nah. I changed my mind. I'm going out."

The red-head disappears behind the door. The next sounds heard by the people inside are some muttered profanities, a slammed car door, an engine revving up and squealing tires.

Tootie's mother bursts in with a covered dish.

"Who's ready for dinner?"

(...Tootie's bedroom...a half-hour later...)

The two teenagers sit on her bed.

"That lasagna was delicious. Nothing against my mom, but wow! I'm kinda glad I stayed for dinner."

"Kinda?"

He gives her a look saying 'You know...'.

"Oh. I'm sorry about Vicky."

"What are you apologizing for? You didn't create her."

"In all these years, she hasn't changed."

Timmy glances at Tootie.

"Yeah. Not like you."

Tootie blushes a bit. "You're probably wondering about my...makeover."

"The thought crossed my mind."

"Well, a few years ago, I got some spinach caught in my teeth. Let me tell you, it was really in there. It drove me crazy, so I looked in a mirror to see what was happening. I got it out, but then I saw myself. I never noticed how I looked before. I never was one of those girly-girls concerned with her looks. I still had a thing for you then, and I saw how much you liked Trixie, who _was_ one of those girly-girls..."

"Is; present tense."

"Oh. So I figured 'He might like me if I was different'. When I never heard from you, I thought it didn't work. It broke my heart, but I really liked how I looked. I guess that, in the end, I did this more for me." Tootie glances at the floor. "I never thought I'd end up so shallow."

Timmy takes Tootie's hand in his.

"Tell me, do you obsess over how you look all the time?"

"Well, no. I'm busy with other stuff."

"Being concerned with how you look isn't so bad, as long as you don't make it your whole life."

Tootie looks up at him and smiles.

Timmy looks around the room, which resembles a regular teenage girl's room.

"I see you got rid of your, uh, love shrine."

"Yeah. Just another way of letting go of the past." Tootie flashes a somewhat nervous grin.

Timmy looks at her for a moment.

"Okay, _Helga_, which closet door should I not open?"

"Come on, it's not like I'd keep all that stuff in a closet."

Tootie turns back and smiles. "It's all in the attic." She walks out of the room, followed by Timmy.

(...the hallway...)

The two of them walk past a number of pictures on the wall: Tootie at two years old, a family portrait taken about eight years ago, and Tootie as a cheerleader. Timmy stops and stares at the last one.

"I gotta know. When did you become a cheerleader?"

Tootie stops walking. "Sophomore year. I don't think I have to tell you how energetic I can be." They both laugh. "All my energy made me a natural."

"Ah. But how is it that I found out a few months ago?"

"You know how high school can be; people running with different crowds. After my makeover, the squad was my crowd."

(...the living room...)

Timmy and Tootie walk in. Her parents are sitting on the couch. The brown-haired young man rests in the chair which sits perpendicular to the couch.

"So, what have you two been up to?", her mother asks with a smile.

"Nothing much. Tootie was just showing me the upstairs. She told me about cheerleading."

"Yes. We're very proud of our daughter", her father responds. "Of course, I can't imagine why we wouldn't be, between cheerleading and her incredible grades..."

"Dad..." Tootie cuts him off bashfully.

Timmy faces Tootie's parents. "So, Mr. and Mrs...um, Tootie's parents?"

"Flanagan."

"I'm just wondering - in fact, I've always wondered: how did she get the name 'Tootie'?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but she's cut off by her mother.

"There's a funny story behind that."

(...the living room...sixteen years ago...)

The house is decorated for Christmas. Vicky and Tootie sit in front of the tree and tear open their presents excitedly, while their parents look on from the couch.

The elder of the two girls works on an exceptionally big gift. Her eyes sparkle when she sees what's inside.

"Wow! A train set!" Vicky runs to her father and wraps him in a hug. "Thanks, daddy!"

"Train! Toot-toot. Toot-toot."

"You're welcome, Vicky."

"Toot-toot. Toot-toot!"

The family's attention is drawn to the little dark-haired girl in front of the tree tooting like a train.

(...the living room...moments later...)

Tootie holds her head in her hands.

"...and the name just stuck."

Timmy looks to Tootie.

"Something wrong?", her mother inquires.

"I've never minded the name, but that story drives me nuts."

"That's amazing."

"The story?"

"No. That Vicky was so...so..."

"Kind?", Tootie asks.

"Compassionate?", queries Mrs. Flanagan.

"Caring?", says Mr. Flanagan.

"Human."

Mr. Flanagan exhales. "Well, Vicky has been quite a handful."

'_Of jellyfish_', Timmy thought to himself.

"But she's always been our baby."

"She hasn't always been like this", Mrs. Flanagan intercedes.

Timmy raises an eyebrow.

"She was once a darling child, but then one day, she just became so..."

"Heartless?"

"No, no. First came the crying, then withdrawal, then came the..." She hesitates a little. "...heartlessness. It seems so strong a word."

'_Not strong enough._'

"You shouldn't worry so much about it, Timmy. She can't be this way forever. Deep down is the daughter we love so very much."

Tootie clears her throat.

"Sorry. The _other_ daughter we love so very much."

Timmy couldn't believe his ears. Was there really a heart within the young woman he despised and feared so much in his younger days, or was it just a black hole?

(...outside the Flanagans...a half-hour later...)

Tootie stands at the front door of the house facing Timmy, who is outside.

"I guess I have to be going."

The disappointed tone in her voice is obvious. "Yeah."

"But I'll see you tomorrow?"

She gives him a quick kiss on the lips. "Of course."

Timmy walks off, then stops. He turns back around.

"I feel I really ought to know about Vicky. If only I had some kind of vehicle, like a Delorean or a Vespa..." Timmy stops. Why had he listed a kind of scooter for time-travel purposes?

"Timmy. Please don't let this bother you." Tootie's words shake him out of his trance. "I don't want you going crazy trying to figure this out. It's a very touchy subject. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

Timmy sighs. "Okay."

The brown-haired young man walks to his car and his dark-haired girlfriend closes her door.


	6. Strangers in the Night

Chapter 6 - Strangers in the Night

(...Dimmsdale Mall...30 minutes later...)

Vicky had been driving aimlessly for some time. True to her earlier statement, there was nothing to do in town tonight. She ultimately decided on going to the mall. As usual, parking was a nightmare. Making her way in, she found that the building was packed with people.

She looks up at the ceiling and starts to wander about. During her walk, she pondered an old problem which, recently, became new: Timmy Turner. Down to the bone, she hated him and reveled in making his life miserable. No one quite knew the reason, though. One thing she did love, however (other than the torture): the pay she received from his parents. Vicky may have been cruel and demented, but she was by no means stupid; she knew that the future would beckon her....and that she should have some cash saved for a rainy day.

College was the ultimate rainy day. She had hoped to juggle her education and her twisted hobby, but found, to her dismay, that she couldn't. Ultimately, she majored in English Literature (with a minor in Sociology).

Vicky's reflections on her past cease upon reaching Read All Over, a bookstore. She walks in and heads for the magazine rack.

(...the food court...10 minutes later...)

With a music magazine under her arm and a smoothie in her hand, Vicky walks around in search of a seat. She settles on a table in the middle. So lost is she in thought, she doesn't even acknowledge (much less notice) the person sitting across from her at the table. With painted nails on slender fingers grasping a fashion magazine, it is obvious that the other person is female.

Vicky glances at her 'companion' and is able to make out the top of her head, sporting a mane of dark hair. She looks down at the person's meal: it's a salad, which looks as if it was comprised solely of lettuce, tomatoes and some transparent flavor of dressing. The redhead puts her smoothie on the table and opens her magazine. At that moment, the other woman puts her magazine down. It's Trixie. She notices the woman at her table and takes a bite of her salad. She buries herself in her magazine.

Just then, Vicky puts her magazine down and takes a long sip of her smoothie. She soon grunts; being pretty tall, her legs need their space. She stretches them out, bumping into the petite feet of the girl across her.

"Excuse me!", Trixie shouts.

"Excuse you what? I need to stretch!"

"Then do it at another table!"

"News flash, girlie: this is a free country!"

"And this is my table. I was sitting here first."

Her legs outstretched, Vicky shoots the high-schooler a death-glare before returning to her magazine. With a look of irritation on her face, Trixie scoffs in response. The expression gradually changes to one of sadness. A tear runs down the brunette's face.

What starts out as one tear soon becomes several. Trixie was definitely a person who prided herself on self-image, but at this point, she could care less what people thought of her now. She folds her arms on the table, rests her head down and sobs. Vicky can't help but stare at her from behind her magazine.

'_Whoa. Look at that girl go._' Vicky's concern soon melts into superiority.'_Who knew I still had it? Although..._'

"What's wrong with you?"

Trixie stops crying and sniffles a bit. "This usually never happens. I used to have over my life." She picks a napkin from the dispenser at the table's center. She dries her eyes with it, then blows her nose. "I was so confident..." She squeezes the napkin in her hand, hard. "...then came _him_."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're getting all weepy over a guy?!"

"What? A lot of girls do...I've heard."

"Not me. I've been with a lot of guys. Take it from me. They're nothing but trouble. You're better off."

"This one, though...he was special", Trixie states in a 'he's so dreamy' tone.

"How special?"

"He was my first."

Vicky's eyes widen. "Your first?!"

"Yeah. The first guy that ever dumped me!", she responds harshly. "Oh, don't get the wrong idea. I am not easy. Most guys I've been with only wanted one thing, but they have to work for it like everyone else."

"And that would be...?"

"Money."

"Oh."

"Anyway, guys don't dump me. I dump them! It's the natural order of things." Trixie sighs heavily. "I see him every day. I see him at school, at home. Hell, I even see him in my nightmares."

"Wow. Have _you_ got problems!"

"And to think: he used to worship the ground I walk on." Trixie sits back in her chair and reflects. "You would not believe some of the stuff he did to impress me. It was kinda sweet in a pathetic and futile sort of way."

"Sounds like a loser to me", Vicky says, taking a long sip from her smoothie.

"I swear, for the rest of my life, I'll never forget him; him or his stupid pink hat."

Vicky spits out a mouthful of raspberry passion to her side, almost like she were auditioning for a sitcom. "Did you say 'pink hat'?"

"I sure did."

"That is too weird. I used to torture a twerp with a pink hat. Well, the official term is 'babysit', but it was torture."

"This guy is such a hottie, but he used to have these two buck teeth."

"So did the twerp!"

"And his name,.." Trixie puts her fingers to her chin "I could never remember it: Terry, Tommy..."

"Timmy Turner?"

"Yes, that was it, I think. He has some nerve doing that to me. I'd like to show him something."

With a smile, Vicky extends her hand to the brunette.

"Vicky Flanagan."

The high-schooler can't help but return the gesture. "Trixie Tang."

The two women shake hands.

(...20 minutes later...)

The one-time enemies are now in good spirits, laughing and bonding over their mutual animosity of Timmy.

"He actually told you that he watched 'The Kissy-Kissy Goo-Goo Hour'? Ha! What a girl!", roars the redhead on the verge of hysteria.

"Didn't I say he was pathetic?"

Vicky manages to catch her breath and wipe away a tear. "I had no idea."

"I wonder what he's doing now."

"Probably still charming my clueless parents. He's dating my sister, the worm. I had to get away from there. What about you? What brings you here?"

"Hiding from my dad. Last week, he was all..."

(...the Tang's living room...last Wednesday night...)

As one would expect, the room is beautifully appointed; fancy paintings, expensive furniture. Trixie sat nervously in a plush chair. Standing at the room's other end is her father. The balding Asian man stood silently staring at a number of papers with red marks all over. He turns back to his daughter.

"What kind of marks are these? Are you even trying to learn anything?" He rubs his temples as he turns back around. Trixie can barely make out her father's muttered words: "'Send her to public school', her mother said. 'It will broaden her horizons', her mother said." Trixie gulps a bit as he faces her.

"This will not stand. If these marks don't improve, I will have no choice. You will..."

(...the food court...)

"...pay my own way through college! Can you believe it? How would I even do something like that?"

"Well, there's financial aid, or you could get a job."

"I was born into money! Why should I have to work?"

"I don't know. Maybe you could be a model."

"Maybe. I mean, that's hardly work."

Vicky puts her arms up and rests her chin on her folded hands. "Getting back to you-know-who, you mentioned wanting to show him something."

"Yeah. He can't get away with this."

"Well, I have a suggestion: find a way to break them up."

"I like that. But shouldn't there be more to it than that?"

"Of course. How good an actress are you?"

Trixie runs her hand back through her hair. "I'd say terrific."

"Good, 'cause that's going to be important."

"But wait, what about your sister?"

"What about her?"

"Won't she be crushed?"

"She'll find a way to deal eventually."

Trixie looks at her.

"Let's just say we haven't had the best relationship", Vicky understated. Even though Tootie was her sister, she considered her just another victim. "But don't worry. This puppeteer still knows how to pull some strings."

"What exactly is your plan? How do we go about doing this?"

Vicky looks around the mall. Her face lights up when she stops on a particular store.

"I think we should start with a little shopping", she says, a devilish smile crossing her lips.


	7. Don't Go Breaking Her Heart

Chapter 7 - Don't Go Breaking Her Heart

(...Dimmsdale High...the next morning...)

The students lug their books and chatter excitedly while making their way to their classes. Among them are Chester and A.J.

"...don't know why you're still hung up on this, Chester."

"Come on! It's perfect! Just think of the headlines: 'McBadbat Buys Baseball Team'. It'd be hilarious! And not only that, but my dad would be so proud."

A.J. couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit.

"Sure, Chester. Sure."

"Go ahead and scoff. There go your season tickets."

"It's just that my mind's occupied right now and I don't have time to hear about your crazy pipe dreams."

"Occupied with what?"

"I just heard from my guidance counselor that there's another candidate for valedictorian."

"So?"

"Do you know how hard I've worked for this?!" His tone shifts from hysteria to lament. "At this rate, I might only end up with a salutatorian award."

"Yeah. That would be tragic", Chester said, wholly unsure as to how to react. "So, who's the other candidate?"

"Some girl; Virginia Flanagan. I've never seen her around. Have you?"

"Nah."

Walking out of a classroom, Timmy spots his friends and walks up beside them.

"Hey, guys. What's up?"

"Not much. Just that the smartest of us might not be so recognized."

"Someone else might be named valedictorian."

"Wow." Timmy rubs the back of his head. "Yeah."

A.J. glares at the brown-haired lad. "Thanks for cheering me up."

Timmy breaks off upon seeing Tootie walking the other way.

"I'm sure everything will work out. See you guys later", Timmy replies hurriedly.

"How's my favorite guy?"

Timmy shrugs. "He's doing all right."

She kisses him on the cheek.

"Now he's doing great!"

"I thought that would help."

"You're pretty smart. Have you heard anything about the valedictorian award? A.J.'s pretty down 'cause he might not get it."

"Yeah, I've heard something."

"There's another candidate."

"I know. It's me."

Timmy stares for a moment.

"Now, don't get all happy for me or anything."

"Sorry, but it's kind of a shock. We kinda expected A.J. to get the award."

"I'm aware of that. I can't help it that I'm so smart."

"Well, you picked me. You must be doing something right."

"Ha. So, I'll see you after school?"

"Of course."

Tootie walks away, leaving Timmy at his locker. He takes a couple of folders from it and puts a book inside. He closes the door and right there behind it is Trixie. A warm smile graces the rich girl's pretty face.

"Hey, there, Timmy."

"I see you managed to remember my name. What do you want?"

"Well..." Trixie rubs her arm with her hand and glances away. "I just wanted to apologize for what happened between us and I was hoping we could, you know, be friends?"

"I don't know."

Trixie gulps a bit. "Please. I don't want this on my conscience. Can you forgive me?" The brunette kneels and grabs Timmy's hand for effect; she never was one for groveling. Usually, other people were begging her.

"Uh...sure, Trixie. Why not?"

Her face lights up as she rises to her feet. She wraps the young man in a tight hug. Without as much force, he returns the gesture. The embrace lasts for nearly a half-minute.

"I think you passed apology a few seconds ago. Now we're on a date."

"Oh, sorry, Timmy."

"That's all right--" Timmy is cut off by the ringing of the bell. "Oh! I got to get to class. Take care, Trixie." He runs down the hall.

"I most certainly will", Trixie sing-songs. "At least, I will now", she follows _sotto voce_.

(...outside Dimmsdale High...that afternoon...)

The final bell pierces the air. The students rush out. One of them is Tootie, who looks around nervously.

"Timmy! Where are you?"

(...a classroom...)

These words can barely be made out by a young man sitting at a desk - Timmy. He peers out the window and sees his girlfriend search the grounds.

He cursed himself for not getting to tell Tootie about his detention; so much happens in a school day that something like detention seems like an afterthought.

Timmy wanted so much to leap from his seat and scream out for Tootie, but that would result in further detention time, and he didn't have that much time to waste. Also, the instructor overseeing the day's delinquents looked like he had a pretty bad day himself. Begrudgingly, he returned to his notes.

(...outside Dimmsdale High...)

Tootie tears up a little as she wanders the property. Her eyes widen at the sight just outside the front gate: Vicky leaning against her car.

"Need a ride?"

The bespectacled young woman takes one last look.

"I guess so." Tootie wipes her eyes and opens the passenger door.

Already at the driver's side, Vicky gets in. The engine starts and the car disappears down the street.

(...outside Dimmsdale High...an hour later...)

Timmy shuffles down the school's front steps. He stops on the last step and sits down. His backpack hits the ground and he opens it to check for his necessary books.

The bag check is interrupted by a pair of hands covering his eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Oh. Hi, Trixie."

She runs around to face him. "Correct! For getting the answer right, you get to drive me home."

"That's a prize?", says Timmy as he stands up.

"It sure is."

The young man walks away. "I'm not sure. I just got out of detention and I really need to get home and study."

Trixie blocks him. "You'd rather study than hang out with your friend?"

"Sorry, but yes", Timmy states as he continues to walk. Trixie follows him. "By the way, what are _you_ doing here so late?"

"A teacher wanted me to stay after and talk about a chemistry exam." Trixie stops to scoff. "Like I'm ever gonna need that in life. So will you do it?"

(...Vicky's car...)

"Vicky, I thought we were going home."

"We are, just as soon as I finish my errands."

The redhead grins devilishly as she turns down the street, back to Dimmsdale High.

"Uh, Vicky, this is the way back to school."

"It is? It's just that I've been gone for so long", Vicky lied; she knew the streets like the back of her hand.

Tootie glances out the window, but it soon becomes a stare: her eyes fix on the sight of her boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend holding hands. Vicky looks over at her sister as her eyes narrow behind her glasses. She folds her arms and silently fumes. The redhead faces front and smiles.

(...outside Dimmsdale High...)

As it turns out, Trixie is holding Timmy's hands. He slips them away and walks toward the front gate, followed by the rich girl.

"Fine, Trixie. I'll take you home."

"Oh, thank you, Ti--"

He turns to her, his finger outstretched. "But understand this: we are not, _not_ going out."

Trixie smiles nervously. "Fair enough."

Timmy turns back around, the look on his face screaming, '_How the hell did I get myself into this?_'

(...Dimmsdale Mall...an hour later...)

The Flanagan siblings sit at a table in the food court. Vicky tears into her double cheeseburger with bacon, while Tootie stares down her plate of orange chicken and fried rice.

"This sure doesn't look like home to me."

Vicky puts her burger down. "Come on. After having to deal with what the lunch ladies courageously label food, I figured you'd be happy."

"I...it's...I appreciate this, but...I just want this day to end as soon as possible."

"Can't you allow yourself some enjoyment once in a while? After putting up with the twerp, I figure you'd be starving for it."

"Vicky, why can't you give him a chance?"

"I don't see why I should."

"Well, I'm sorry, but the two of us are going to be together for a long time."

(...lower level of the mall...)

"_If you can't accept that, too bad_."

Trixie walks around gleefully.

"I love the smell of clearance in the afternoon. Don't you?"

Behind her seemed to be a group of tote bags that had come to life. Trixie lifts one of the "monster's" bags, revealing Timmy's face.

"This sure doesn't look like your home to me."

"Home, second home, no matter. Ooooh. I must have that." Trixie runs off in another direction, leaving the bag to flop down and obstruct Timmy's vision. For his luck, he (and the bags) collapse on a marble bench where he struggles to catch his breath.

(...the food court...)

"But there are so many other guys out there. Why settle for that one?!"

"Sometimes, there's just this...magical connection between two people. Mom and Dad have it. Timmy and I have it."

(...the lower level...)

Trixie grabs Timmy and runs to a store - We Got Pants. She takes a pair of pants off the circular rack just outside the store.

"Wow. These are really nice. Do you have them in green?"

(...the food court...)

Vicky hears the line from downstairs and reaches into her pocket. She pulls out a pen and tosses it away.

"Oh. My pen!"

Tootie stands to her feet. "I'll get it."

The pen manages to skirt the edge overlooking the lower level. Tootie grabs it before it falls. Her face sinks at seeing Timmy and Trixie together a second time. She starts to whimper a bit as she walks back to her table.

(...the lower level...)

Trixie walks through the crowd, followed by Timmy carrying her bags.

"Why do you even need this stuff?"

"For college. One needs to be prepared."

"Why are we even here?"

"What? Friends don't shop together?"

"_Female_ friends."

Timmy stops walking. "Now I can understand the new clothes, but why do you need new underwear? Or new perfume?"

"Like I said, 'be prepared'. Besides, it simply wouldn't do to make a bad first impression", Trixie titters.

(...Tootie's bedroom...that night...)

The dark-haired girl sits on her bed and looks at the phone. Her hand reaches out to pick up the receiver, but stops short. She repeats the move, throwing down her hand in defeat. As she lays down, the door opens.

"Knock, knock", Vicky jokes as she walks in. "Is everything all right?"

"No. Timmy was with...Trixie."

"Oh. Who is she?"

"This girl that goes to our school. Timmy used to have this big crush on her."

"What did I tell you? You can't be too careful. Didn't he fall for you after your little makeover?" Tootie offered no verbal response. Instead, she let tears fall down her face. "It seems to me that he was, and always has been, thinking with the little twerp."

"Vicky, this is the last thing I need right now!", Tootie cries out.

The redhead walks over to the bed and sits down.

"I wouldn't have come back for your graduation if I didn't care about you. Everything I've ever done, I've done because I care about you."

"You mean like doing _your_ chores?"

"Well, yeah. To teach you about responsibility." Tootie snorts.

Vicky gets up and walks to the door.

"Just think about what I'm saying."

The door closes, which leaves Tootie with a sad look on her face.

(...Dimmsdale High...the next day...)

Tootie walks down the hall, her books clutched close to her chest. Timmy sees her and runs up to her.

"Hey, Tootie. How..."

At seeing the young man, the brunette speeds her stride. Timmy stands in the hall, completely taken aback at what's happened.

(...Dimmsdale High...a few hours later...)

Throughout the day, Timmy tried to talk to his girlfriend, but she would do her best to avoid him.

At one point, the halls were jam-packed with students, making movement a chore. The estranged lovers were forced together.

"Tootie..."

She turns away, but the movement of someone behind her turns her back around.

"Hello, again. What's going on?"

"I think you know. I saw you with Trixie yesterday."

Timmy starts laughing.

Tootie folds her arms. "I don't see what's so funny."

"Are you sure those glasses are working? There's nothing going on between us. She actually apologized to me, and called me 'Timmy'. Me and her, we're just friends, maybe less than that."

The bespectacled girl looks away ashamedly. "I guess I got a little carried away."

The two of them embrace. "I guess so. See you after school?"

"Absolutely."

Just as Timmy and Tootie let go of each other, the crowd disperses.

(...Timmy's car...that afternoon...)

"You know, I feel much better, Timmy. To think that you...and her..."

"Nothing but a distant memory. You are the only one that matters."

The vehicle stops in front of the Flanagan's house. Tootie reaches for the handle when her nose catches an unusual aroma. She sniffs faster and harder.

Timmy gets out of the car. "What's wrong?"

"There's a weird smell in here." Tootie glances at the rear-view mirror and spots something sticking out of the backseat; something pink.

The bespectacled brunette whips her head back and sees a pink pair of panties wedged between the cushions. Her face twists into a grimace as she steps out of the car.

She calmly walks to the driver's side and grabs Timmy by the arm.

Tootie spins him to face inside the back window. "What in the hell are those?"

Timmy leans in. He squints a little, then faces Tootie. "They look like a pair of panties."

"I know they're panties. What are they doing in your backseat?"

Timmy gasps.

(...Dimmsdale Mall...yesterday afternoon...)

Holding a small number of bags, Timmy waits outside a store. Trixie waltzes out holding a small bag. She pulls out a pair of pink panties.

"These are so beautiful. I'm so glad I decided to get these."

(...outside the Flanagan's house...)

Timmy turns to his angry girlfriend.

"Now I remember. Trixie--"

"Trixie?! You said there was nothing going on!"

"There isn't."

"Then what do you call these?!" Tootie clutches the panties and takes a cautionary whiff. "God, they even stink of her!"

"I'm telling you, nothing happened. Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain." Tootie storms to the front door. Before she opens it, she turns around. "You know, it's funny: I thought you outgrew this crap."

She opens the door and goes in. Timmy rushes after to the door, but is stopped by Vicky.

"I'm sorry, but we're not taking any guests this evening."

"Get out of my way, Vicky, or you're gonna get hurt."

The redhead stares down her former charge. "And what, in our history, makes you think you'll win that fight?"

Timmy backs down...for a few seconds. He tries to leap into the house, but Vicky grabs him and throws him out.

(...the Flanagan's house...)

Vicky watches as Tootie runs up the stairs. This is followed by a slam and muffled crying.

The phone next to the living room couch rings. Vicky picks up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Did everything go according to plan?"

"It sure did. That twerp won't show his face around here again."

"That'll teach him to mess with us. I'll see you around, Vicky."

"Oh, you can count on that, Trixie."


	8. Down in the Dumps

Chapter 8 - Down in the Dumps

(...Tootie's bedroom...two weeks later...)

The break-up cut the bespectacled young woman deeper than anyone could've imagined. She fell into a dreary routine: getting up, going to school, coming home, doing her homework, grabbing a light snack and crying herself to sleep.

Tootie decided to retire quite early in the evening; she was feeling quite sick today. Whether she was heartsick or sick to her stomach, she wouldn't tell. She lies in bed, tucked under her covers. A knock at the door stirs her a little.

"Tootie?"

(...the upstairs hallway...)

Her mother stands at the door of Tootie's bedroom with a tray. On the tray is a plate with salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and peas.

"I know it hurts, but you must eat something. Please", she says, her voice filled with worry.

(...Tootie's bedroom...)

The young woman is - literally and figuratively - unmoved by the matriarch's pleas.

(...outside Tootie's bedroom...)

"Tootie?" Another knock at the door.

Mr. Flanagan walks by, then turns back to his wife.

"Honey, if Toots wants to be left alone, then we should respect that."

"But, Vic, what if she doesn't come out? I doubt they'll allow her to graduate from inside her bedroom."

"Val, the more we push her, the less she'll move." He puts his arm around her. "It'll be all right."

"I don't understand, though. She really loved that Turner boy. He was her whole world. Now she won't even take his calls."

"Speaking of which..." Mr. Flanagan checks his watch. "...he should be calling again in three, two, one..."

The phone rings.

"Do you wanna take it or should I?"

"I'll tell him, Vic."

Mrs. Flanagan heads down the stairs, tray in hand. Mr. Flanagan puts one hand in his pocket and the other on the wall next to Tootie's door. He shakes his head.

"If only we could help." As he heads for the stairs, a thought crosses his mind: 'Where in the world is Vicky?'

(...Dimmsdale Mall...)

Even at this late hour, the inside is packed with consumers. Watching them go by from a bench are Vicky and Trixie. They aren't there to shop. They're just...there.

Ever since their quite accidental meeting, they became good...if not friends, then certainly acquaintances.

"So, how's school been going?"

"I'm telling you; my teachers are out to get me."

"What about your dad?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt me. I'm sure I'll figure something out."

Vicky turns to the bustle of shoppers.

"Look at these people, running around. All this running around and they're getting nowhere. They need to learn to sit back and enjoy life. It's not that hard, to bask in the misery of others."

"Yeah."

"To just laugh at your troubles...and other people's troubles."

"You're right. There is so much they could learn from you; that I could learn."

"Exactly. It's like this saying I heard one time: 'If you're miserable, why should others be happy?'" Trixie thinks a bit about Vicky's words. She turns to the redhead.

"Wait. What could you be miserable about?"

The usually upfront Vicky was hesitant to answer. The misery of others caused her no end of happiness, but her own misery was a source of great pain. As she looks off, her eyes start to tear.

(...the Flanagan's house...nineteen years ago...)

With a purple bow in her hair, little Vicky runs around her backyard. She looks up a tree, but grunts upon finding nothing. She looks to the side door of the garage, but the window of the door was placed a lot higher than she could see. The petite redhead jumps up and down, her little legs carrying her as far as they'd go. Nothing still.

Vicky turns upon hearing a light rustling from the bush. She tip-toes toward the shrubbery. As she draws closer, the greenery seems to giggle. The little girl jumps into the bush. Moments later, Vicky emerges from the bush chasing another girl; one with brown hair.

"I got you, Donna! You're it!"

"Only if you catch me first!"

The girls run and laugh with reckless abandon.

"_Vicky..._"

(...Dimmsdale Mall...)

"Vicky?

Trixie looks on with concern at her companion. She snaps her fingers in front of Vicky's face.

"Vicky!"

The older woman shakes out of her 'trance'.

"What? What is it?"

"Well, you kinda spaced out for a moment."

"Spaced out?"

"Yeah. I mentioned why you'd be miserable, then you just..." Trixie mimics the spaced-out look sported by Vicky moments ago.

"Well, I...it's nothing. You know, this doesn't happen too often, but I've come to consider you a good friend."

"Somehow, I think it goes deeper than that."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Vicky, the two of us...we're like sisters!", replies Trixie with a great deal of exuberance.

"Yeah. I guess we are."

(...Timmy's bedroom...an hour later...)

His arms folded behind his head, the brown-haired lad lays on his bed. He allows a tear to fall from his eye. A knock at the door fails to stir him from his funk.

"Timmy?", Mrs. Turner asks. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about this?"

His response is dead silence.

"Well, if you _do_ want to talk, you know where I am."

The look on Timmy's face was one of apathy, but he briefly allowed his face to crack a smile. His parents hadn't paid much attention to him in the past, but they managed to take an interest in their son in the nick of time.

(...the Flanagan's house...the next morning...)

The way the family members walk says a lot about their current frames-of-mind. While her parents zip past her at warp speed upstairs and her sister glides by casually to the kitchen, Tootie shuffles down the stairs. As she heads for the door, the voices of her family blend together:

"Val, have you seen my tie?"

"Check your tie rack."

"Thank you."

"Damn. There's never a fresh pot of coffee."

"I really need the bathroom, honey."

"So do I right now."

"I wonder if we have any pancake mix?"

"Tootie, remember that your family loves you. Take care."

The front door closes.

(...Dimmsdale High...a couple of hours later...)

Tootie ambles along, detached from her surroundings. She bumps into Mr. McKenzie.

"Whoa."

"Oh, Mr. McKenzie. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. Speaking of all right, are you? You haven't been yourself lately."

"I'm sorry. It's just...a lot's been going on in my life."

"Well, have you finished that essay?"

"The ess..." Tootie brings her hand to her head as she realizes what he's talking about. "Oh, my God. I completely forgot about that."

"Tootie." The educator shakes his head. "I really believe you have a chance at this. I don't want you to lose this."

The brunette looks away.

"You still have two weeks. I know you can do it. A thousand words is nothing; three pages. You could do this in your sleep."

Tootie walks down the hall. "And Tootie?" She turns back. "Whatever's wrong, I hope you can get it straightened out." The senior runs back and hugs Mr. McKenzie. If there's one thing she definitely needs now, it's encouragement.

The bespectacled girl strolls down the hallway. She's not even a few steps down the hallway when she sees Timmy walking towards her. Luckily for her, his head is down; he's feeling just as bad as she was earlier.

Tootie looks around nervously for a way out; she's feeling better, but not quite up to the level of reconciliation. She ducks into a restroom, unaware of the little man on the door.

Timmy turns a corner.

"Oh, Timmy."

The young man looks up with a smile, which quickly becomes a grimace. The voice belongs to Trixie. Timmy brushes by her without a word.

Trixie tries to keep pace with him. "I haven't seen you in so long. What's wrong, dear friend?"

Timmy stops and turns to her, a scowl on his face. "You know those panties you bought a couple of weeks ago? They ended up in my backseat!"

"Hmmm. That is unusual."

"And now my girlfriend won't even speak to me."

"Oh. You have a girlfriend." Trixie knew this from Vicky, but she was sure to play dumb about it.

"_Had_."

"You seem pretty down about this. Maybe I could cheer you up."

"How could you cheer me up?"

Trixie stares a bit at her "friend".

"Are you sure you're old enough to be graduating from high school?" Trixie leans in close and cups her hand to Timmy's ear. "I mean..."

The expression on his face goes from apathy to amusement, and then to shock.

"You can't be serious."

"At this point, I wouldn't ask anyone else. I love you, Timmy. No one's ever broken up with me before. It...it fascinated me. And you having a girlfriend...that makes you so attractive."

"Ex-girlfriend, which is also what you are."

"Even so, I want you back."

Timmy slinks away from Trixie.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want you. I'll say this for the last time: the two of us are over. Do you understand?"

Trixie's mouth hangs open.

"Trixie?"

"Oh. Yes, I do."

"I still love her. What kind of relationship could we have?"

Timmy walks away.

"Goodbye."


	9. Just a Friend

Chapter 9 - Just a Friend

(...Dimmsdale High...two days later...)

Trixie stalks the crowded hallways of the school. Usually, the rich girl is careful not to bump into anyone, but today, she's angry enough to knock people down (which she does), and the scowl on her face suggests that she doesn't care who knows it. On her mind is the realization that she's been dumped - twice - by Timmy Turner.

'_Who does he think he is?! Doesn't he know what I can give him? Uhhh! He still loves her. Her! Not me! She won't get away with this!_'

In her rage, she shoulder bumps Tootie, who walks in the opposite direction. The cheerleader turns and glances at the angry girl, but ultimately, neither brunette acknowledges the other. Tootie shrugs her shoulders and steps into Mr. McKenzie's classroom.

The educator looks over a lesson plan when two sheets of paper (stapled together at the top) drift onto his desk. He looks up at the person giving him the document.

"Tootie! This is a pleasant surprise!"

He takes the paper and looks over it for a minute.

"I must say this is terrific. I love this hand-writing."

The senior blushes. "Thanks."

"Are you feeling better?"

"I'm getting there."

"That's good. I have a strong feeling that the scholarship is in the proverbial bag." He places it in a manila folder under some books on his desk. The teacher grabs the lot of items and straightens them out. Unfortunately, the staple from the paper gets caught on the back of the folder, causing the top of the page to stick out. "That is, if it's better than the other essays."

Tootie goes pale. "Other...essays?"

"Yes. Didn't you know this was a state-wide competition?"

"I must've missed that part."

The brunette shuffles to her seat among the few other students already there.

"Don't worry." Tootie turns around. "I have faith in you and your essay." She smiles nervously.

(...Mr. McKenzie's room...that afternoon...)

A knock at the door alerts the teacher, cleaning off his blackboard.

"Come in."

The door opens, and who should walk in but Trixie. For someone called in to see a teacher after school, her mood is surprisingly upbeat.

"Good afternoon, Mr. McKenzie."

"Would that I could respond in kind."

She sits at a desk in the front. "Pardon?"

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Bad grades?" She knew the answer well enough, but was nervous about sharing.

"Just the tip of the iceberg." Mr. McKenzie walks to his desk and produces a number of sheets dressed in red ink. "Poor test results, incomplete assignments, missing papers."

Trixie bites her lip. The educator sits on his desk.

"I know there are no bad students; only bad teachers. But I've tried my best to get students to understand the material. Are you sure you've been trying to get anything out of this class."

"I have been trying; so very hard, but nothing seems to stick."

"Were you, at least, seeing the tutors?" Trixie gulps a bit. Her grades may have needed the boost, but the thought of wasting her time with geeks was too repulsive.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"Complete the rest of the course, take the final and pray." Mr. McKenzie turns around and goes to his briefcase. He opens it and looks around. "I know you're not dumb. No one who walks in here is. I just feel that when a student gets a failing grade, it's not me failing them. It's the student, because they wouldn't try."

Trixie rolls her eyes a bit at the lecture. It soon becomes a muffled background noise as she notices a piece of paper sticking out of a folder on the desk. She squints a little at the dainty writing at the top. She can barely make out the upside-down name: Tootie Flanagan. Her eyes widen as a couple of thoughts come back to her:

"_Vicky Flanagan...he's dating my sister, the worm_." "_I still love her_."

A devious, Grinch-like smile creeps onto the rich girl's face. She notices that Mr. McKenzie is still going through his briefcase. Trixie snatches Tootie's paper and stuffs it into her backpack. The teacher looks up at her.

"Trixie?"

Her head jerks up. "Yes?"

"Have you seen a manila folder somewhere?"

She looks at his desk.

"You mean this one?" She points it out.

"Oh, yes. Thank you." He takes the folder and puts it in his briefcase.

"So...is that all, Mr. McKenzie?"

"Yes. I want you to strongly think about what I said." Trixie gathers her papers together and puts them in her backpack. She heads for the door. "I hope this meeting has helped you."

"Oh, it has." The brunette walks out and glances at the essay in her bag. "In ways you could never imagine." Trixie is too enamored of her scheme to worry about cliche as she walks down the hall and laughs loudly.

(...Dimmsdale High...the next morning...)

The next day brings the usual chatting and trudging from the human cattle. However, there is one bright spot. To look at her today, one would never have known that Tootie was in a down mood. The smile on her face, the spring in her step; she is a changed woman.

She passes by Mr. McKenzie's classroom. The teacher looks up from his papers and rushes into the hall.

"Tootie!"

The brunette stops.

"I'm so glad I found you."

"What's the matter?"

"It's the strangest thing. I seem to have misplaced your paper."

Tootie gasps. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"You have no idea how much I wish I was. It was in my folder, and when I went to turn it in, it was gone."

The senior's legs start to buckle. She collapses into a nearby seat and buries her head in her folded arms.

"I'm thinking it wouldn't help to ask how you're doing."

Tootie offers a groan in response.

"There's still time to turn in another copy."

She raises her head. "But I put so much into it. There was so much I had to say."

"I know you can say it again."

The brunette exhales.

(...the Flanagan's house...that afternoon...)

Tootie sits at the computer. Her mood is distinctly different than it was this morning. For the last hour, she's struggled to remember exactly what she wrote the first time. A grunt escapes her lips.

Vicky walks behind her. "How long are you going to be on there? I need to check on an auction I'm winning."

"I'm kind of busy here on a school project."

The redhead storms off to the front door. She looks down at a small stack of letters at her feet. Vicky picks the stack up and thumbs through it. She stops at a particular letter addressed to her. Her eyes widen at seeing the return address:

Donna Winters

473 Thackeray Road

Baltimore, MD 35764

At least, that's how it looked to her; the zip code was quite smudged, and Donna's handwriting was never the neatest.

Without a word, Vicky drops the remaining parcel and rushes up to her room.

(...Vicky's room...)

It was just as she left it years ago. She jumps on the bed and rips open the envelope. The redhead takes out the letter and reads:

Vicky,

What's up? I hope this letter finds you well. I checked the Dimmsdale Times website every day, and since I never saw your obituary, I figured 'She has to be alive.' I'm pretty mad at you, though, I haven't heard a damn word from you in years. Haven't you been getting my letters?

Vicky looks at the envelope and sees her address: 349 Garrison Ave.

(...another house...some time ago...)

A man flips through his letters, all addressed to the same man: Louis Dinkleberg, 375 Garrison Ave. He stops at a letter for a Vicky Flanagan.

"Honey, do we know a 'Donna' or a 'Vicky'?"

"You know we don't. Toss it."

(...Vicky's room...)

The young woman lays on her bed staring at the letter.

Anyway, my life's going great. I've been promoted at my job. It's nothing, though: let me tell you, it is wicked easy to get ahead here. All you really have to do is show up and do the work. That puts me _way ahead of the game._

I miss you so much. We may not have gotten to go to high school together like we wanted, but I just know our paths will cross again. You were a good friend and the nicest person I've ever met. I sure hope your attitude hasn't changed any over the years.

At this moment, a couple of tears drip onto the letter. Vicky puts the letter down and allows her mind to wander over the many times she and Donna hung out: going to the movies, playing in each other's yards, running in the park.

Her mind then goes to the nastiness she's inflicted on the citizens of Dimmsdale. She starts to quiver, almost on the verge of blubbering.

I also miss seeing your little sister, Tootie. She was so adorable. I remember how we'd look after her. Being an only child, it was so wonderful spending time with the two of you.

Amazingly, she wills herself to finish reading.

But listen to me go on and on. I really hope to hear from you soon.

Donna

P.S. Here's hoping that you haven't been giving anyone grief, especially people wearing pink.

Vicky looks away.

(...in front of Donna's house...ten years ago...)

The newly teenage redhead looks mournfully into an empty house. A sign on the front lawn reads 'Sold'. Vicky wipes away the tears welling up in her eyes and runs down the street. She turns a corner and knocks down a little brown-haired boy walking in the opposite direction. He dusts himself off and stands to his feet. Looking to the ground, he sees a few teardrops next to his pink hat.

He picks it up and calls after the girl, who hadn't stopped to help him up.

"Lady, are you all right?"

Vicky stops and walks toward him.

"Are you all right?"

With a rage that was never there before, Vicky lifts the lad up by his shirt and snarls.

"What's it to _you_, twerp?!"

She tosses him away.

(...Vicky's room...moments later...)

The letter is on the floor and Vicky's head is buried in her hands. A sound of sadness (and remorse) that people were convinced would never return emanated from her; she was actually sobbing.

After about a minute, her phone rings. She picks it up.

"Hey. It's Trixie. Meet me at the mall in twenty."

Vicky puts down the phone.

(...Dimmsdale Mall...25 minutes later...)

Trixie and Vicky sit on a bench. The brunette has her backpack on her lap.

"Why are we here?"

"You never know when you might see something you like."

The rich girl opens her backpack and produces a bunch of papers. They seem like the ones given to her by Mr. McKenzie (among other teachers), but they have nothing but accolades written on them.

"I wanted to show you these." She hands Vicky the documents. "They look the same, but aren't. Computers are amazing, aren't they?"

The redhead looks through the pile, boasting such superlatives as 'Excellent Work!' and 'Much Improved!'. "Incredible. You did these?"

"Oh, no. I paid off a couple of geeks to do it for me."

(...a computer lab...yesterday afternoon...)

With $50 bills sticking out of their pockets, Elmer and Sanjay anxiously type away at the terminals.

"I told you taking this computer course was a good idea", replied the once boil-ridden, now acne-ridden teen.

"Yes. This class was surprisingly lucrative."

(...Dimmsdale Mall...)

"I'm amazed."

"I was hoping you would be."

Vicky notices some papers in Trixie's bag.

"What are those?"

"The real McCoys. I couldn't do the new ones without the originals."

Trixie closes the flap of her backpack.

"Even more, I couldn't have done it without you. You inspired me to take control of my life, no matter what."

Vicky hands back the papers. "Thanks...I think."

Trixie exhales. "What a week it's been. Between these new papers and destroying that essay..."

"Wait. What essay?"

"This essay your sister was writing."

Vicky stares a bit, then shakes her head. "Not that it matters too much, but she was working pretty hard on that."

"Well, maybe she should've worked harder on that and not on screwing with my plans."

"Plans?"

"Is there an echo in here? Plans, all right?" The brunette isn't too keen on telling Vicky that she still loves Timmy, in spite of their history.

Trixie turns around. Her face lights up.

"Oh, wow. A sale on scarves! I'll be right back."

The senior runs into a store: Shawls and Stuff. Vicky scoffs at her friend. She looks over at where Trixie was sitting and notices that she left her backpack on the bench.

Vicky glances at the forged documents. She clutches them in her hand and rips them up. The redhead stuffs the remnants into a nearby trash can.

As Trixie walks back with a bag full of scarves, Vicky thinks to herself: 'Don't say I never did anything for you, Tootie'.


	10. Vicky to the Rescue!

Chapter 10 - Vicky to the Rescue?!

(...Timmy's bedroom...moments later...)

The young man lays on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Add to this homework, dragging himself down to dinner, calling Tootie and going to sleep and you'd have what was pretty much Timmy's post-school routine since the break-up. He allows a huge sigh from his lips.

A knock at his door does nothing to rouse him.

"Timmy? Can I come in?"

He offers a shrug in response.

"I'm going to take your silence as a 'yes'." The door opens and in walks Mrs. Turner. She takes a seat at the edge of her son's bed.

"So, tell me what's wrong."

Timmy turns over and mumbles something incoherently into his pillow.

"What's that?"

Another grunt.

"Now, Timmy, we're never going to get anywhere if your face is toward a pillow and not a person."

Begrudgingly, the senior sits up on his bed.

"Fine. A month ago, I started going out with Tootie, then we had this fight. I tried to explain myself, but she wouldn't listen to me." He looks to his mother, who has a smile on her face. "Why are you smiling?"

"Sorry, but, well, I kind of had a feeling that you and her would get together."

"Too bad it wasn't meant to be."

"You don't know that. Maybe it was." Her tone shifts from concerned to accusatory. "Wait, why am I only finding about this now?"

Timmy rubs the back of his neck. "Well, you and Dad haven't exactly, you know..." He puts up his fingers and makes air quotes for emphasis. "...'been there' for me. I doubt you'd have been able to help me."

"Oh, Timmy." She hugs him. "I know your father and I have been pretty...selfish over the years. There's no excuse for it, but, remember: you're our son and no matter what happens, we will always love you."

A tear falls down Timmy's cheek as he returns the hug. "I'll always love you, too."

The two of them wipe their eyes. "I know you'll make the right choices." Mrs. Turner gets up. "Dinner's in five minutes." She walks to the door, but stops and turns. "Have you tried explaining yourself since then?"

"Yeah. I called her every night, but she never answers."

"Did you try going to her house? She's just up the street." Mrs. Turner disappears behind the door and closes it.

"You know, if I wasn't a 'C' student, I'd have thought of that weeks ago", Timmy states to no one in particular.

At that moment, the phone rings. Timmy picks it up.

"Hello?"

"It's a nice night tonight, don't you think?", intones a feminine voice with a vaguely French accent.

He looks outside his window.

"Yeah, it's all right."

"It'd be even nicer in the park."

"I bet it would."

"You don't have to bet. You can experience it for yourself."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"'Cause your girlfriend's here. Don't you want to see her?"

The receiver drops on Timmy's end and he rushes out of his room.

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!"

(...another house...)

"_Goin' to the park_!"

A dainty hand hangs up the phone. The hand belongs to, of all people, Vicky.

"Hey! Get dressed! We're going to the park", she shouts up the stairs.

(...the park...15 minutes later...)

Timmy sits on a bench which gives him a great view of the sun sinking into the horizon. He looks around the area and finds joggers, dog-walkers, little kids - everyone but who he seeks.

A car stops in front of the park and out of it step Vicky and Tootie. The sisters walk down the cobblestone path.

"...broke us up?! I can't believe you would do something like that...and I can't believe I just said that."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Also, I can't believe that that..._witch_ Trixie is getting away with it."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say 'getting away with it'.

(...the Tang's living room...)

Trixie waltzes in where her father sits waiting.

"Hello, daddy."

Without even looking, she hands him the papers from her backpack.

"I think you will be quite surprised." The rich girl walks out.

He glares at the red-scarred documents and stands to his feet.

"Trixana, I'd like a word with you."

She stops dead, a shocked look on her face.

(...the park...)

"Why are we even here?"

"What? Can't I do something nice for you?"

"I think you've made it clear that you don't have it in you to be nice."

"That's what you assume", the redhead mutters under her breath.

Tootie's eyes catch sight of the back of Timmy's head at a bench. She stops walking. A couple steps ahead, Vicky notices her petrified sister.

"What's wrong?"

"There he is."

Vicky squints her eyes. "Who?"

"Timmy!" Tootie points him out.

"Oh. What could _he_ be doing here?"

Without a word, the brunette nervously approaches her ex-boyfriend. She sits on the edge of the bench.

Timmy does a double take at seeing Tootie. The high-schoolers face each other. They move their lips to try and say something, but they can't get anything out, until...

"I'm sorry!", Tootie blurts out. "I should've tried to listen to you."

"No. _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have been hanging around with Trixie."

"That is true. What could you have been thinking?"

"Geez. Way to ruin my apology with the truth."

They both laugh.

"I really missed you."

"Same here."

The two of them celebrate their reconciliation with a hug and a kiss.

"I love you, Timmy."

"I love you too, Tootie."

The two of them face the sunset, which turns the sky a gorgeous magenta and yellow.

Vicky stands behind a tree and looks at her sister, a half-smile on her face. She pulls out her cell phone and dials.

(...Trixie's bedroom...)

The rich girl sits on her bed looking very grim. Her cell phone rings. She presses a couple of buttons.

"Hello?"

"Hey, how's it going?", Vicky cheerfully inquires.

"Terrible. Daddy went ballistic."

"Well, didn't you give him the papers?"

"I did, but they weren't the new ones. They were the originals."

"Gee, I can't imagine how _that_ happened."

Trixie takes a moment to put two and two together. Her eyes widen. "It was you!"

"I could continue this charade all day, but my battery's running low. Yes, it was me."

"But why?! We're supposed to be sisters!"

"I have a sister, and no one messes with her but me."

"I can't believe you!"

"Believe it, richie."

The phone beeps, signifying the end of the call.


	11. Looking Ahead

Chapter 11 - Looking Ahead

(...Dimmsdale High's auditorium...a month later...)

All across the school's class lines, the students had been dreading final exams. The reactions ranged from apathy to shock to apprehension, among others. In the end, though, the majority managed to pass them or squeak by on their average (with but a small handful failing altogether).

The fortunate ones occupy the first ten rows of the spacious room. Their parents, relatives and assorted guests and teachers fill up the remaining seats. On stage sits the principal, a dark-haired man and two other people. One is an older man with a mustache, while the other is a short, dark-haired woman; these are the two vice-principals.

Standing at the podium is A.J., who focuses on his speech amongst the flash-bulbs of the cameras.

"...I feel there is so much one can take away from the years at this school. In fact, I think we are better people for having gone here."

The crowd applauds as the bald young man departs the stage. The female vice-principal gets up and takes the mike.

"Thank you, Mr. Preston. That was A.J. Preston, our valedictorian."

A.J. walks down the aisle and takes his seat. Chester turns around.

"Nice speech, man. I can't believe you were ever worried about that."

"Well, it did get a little hairy there toward the end."

The applause dies down. "Now, I would like to introduce an extraordinary young woman, one whose passion for education can be an inspiration to us all. Our salutorian, Virginia Flanagan!"

Her essay in hand, Tootie takes the stage. She adjusts her glasses and shuffles the papers.

"What does education mean to me, you wonder? It means an untold world of chances; a way to enrich your life. Sure, it may be tough at times, but when you stay with it, you'll find it to be an unforgettable experience. I honestly don't know where I would've been without my education."

Timmy sits, paying full attention to his girlfiend's words. He's distracted a little by a conversation taking place behind him. He turns and finds Vicky and Donna chatting behind him.

"Excuse me, but shouldn't you be paying attention to Tootie's speech?", Timmy states in a hushed tone.

"Shouldn't you?", the redhead replies in kind.

"The two of you have had a month to catch up. Can't it wait?"

"Hey, she's rehearsed this speech for us every day since she finished it. I practically know it by heart. I'm starting to wish I'd destroyed it myself."

Donna stares at her friend a little. "You have got to tell me what you've been up to these last 10 years."

Vicky looks at the brunette. "You would not believe it." She turns to Timmy. "Besides..." She jerks a thumb at her father, holding a digital video camera and focusing on his daughter. "Father Scorsese's getting every moment on tape."_"Personally, I consider myself very fortunate to have attained an education from skilled individuals dedicated to their work. My teachers have provided me with so much. They informed me and my fellow students of information we may not have ever figured out on our own."_

Mr. McKenzie sits with the other teachers, barely able to contain his elated smile.

_"I can imagine what some of the beautiful people might say: 'I can always rely on my sports know-how' or 'Who needs an education when you look this good?' (and take it from me, I'm well aware how this is going to sound). Athleticism and good looks are nice while they're here, but they are not going to get you everything in life and they certainly won't last forever. Every little bit helps in this world."_

_"From time to time, most of my colleagues grumble aloud 'Why do we have to learn about history? What do we need to know about chemistry? We're never going to use this stuff in real life!'. Well, let me say that if you can't learn from the past, then don't count on a bright future. And chemistry? How about knowing what not to mess around with so you won't get blown to pieces. Besides, it's possible you could end up on a game show, where you might _need_ to know the capital of Argentina or which chromosomes determine who we are."_

Vicky leans over. "Oh, and if you break my sister's heart - for real - I'll break every bone in your body. You know I will." The redhead sits back in her seat. Timmy reacts with somewhere between a smile and a gulp. He believes her, but also knows that this is as close as it comes to Vicky giving her blessing.

"I find it next to impossible that there are people in the world who choose not to pursue an education and that some people decide to drop out of school. Don't they know that the pursuit of knowledge is a gift? Don't they realize, or even care, that, in some countries, children aren't allowed to get educations? How these children are unable to further themselves in the pursuit of a better life? Imagine only gaining knowledge from sources of a similarly detached, uninformed nature."

"Most people think to themselves 'I've already finished high school. Why would I want to waste my time in college?' No one's forcing you to go to college, nor am I suggesting you just blow it off. But to the privileged few who deign to take the next step, you'll have an chance to expand your knowledge and create many opportunities for your future. Believe it or not, there's a glass ceiling for high school graduates in the job market. A college degree will give you the edge...even in something as menial as fast food."

The crowd laughs at this, but Trixie sinks in her seat.

"To me, education means hope. It means strength, freedom and success. In short, education means life."

The crowd erupts in applause. Tootie walks off the stage and heads for her seat, a smile on her face. She never cared to be popular in the traditional sense, but she really liked the admiration that comes from doing a good job.

(...Timmy's car...two weeks later...)

As the vehicle makes its way down the streets of Dimmsdale, the driver - now a high school graduate - reflects on his life and how his passengers have affected it. He looks to the pretty brunette in the seat next to him; she found her way into his heart and got him to realize that she was the one for him.

He glances at his rear-view mirror and looks to the redhead behind her; she used to despise him, and while she doesn't completely like the guy, she can still spend time in his company without doing him harm.

He focuses on the brown-haired woman next to the redhead; if not for her, they wouldn't have ended up like this. Timmy felt like he owed Donna something, but he wasn't sure what it was.

Timmy looks over to Tootie. She glances out the window. He reaches his hand over to her and takes her hand in his. The brunette looks at him.

"I'm proud of you."

She squeezes his hand. "I'm proud of us."

"So, what do you two have planned for the future?", Donna inquires.

Timmy takes his hand and rests it on the steering wheel. "Well, just college, really."

"And then?"

"'And then', what? Can't we wait until it happens?"

Tootie turns around. "Besides, we've barely gotten into summer."

"Okay, but it never hurts to be prepared." Donna turns to her old friend. "What about you? You gonna do anything?"

"Well, I was thinking of writing a book."

"What about?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe it could be a book on babysitting."

"So it'll be a horror novel, then?", cracks Timmy.

"Watch the road, laughing boy."

Donna stretches a bit. "Hey, is anyone else hungry?" As it turns out, the party is only a few blocks away from a McKinney's.

"...and over there is the fryer..."

(...McKinney's...)

A middle-aged man navigates a dark-haired young woman through the compressed kitchen area of the fast-food joint.

"Have you got all that?"

The brunette looks up; it's Trixie. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get to work." He walks away, then turns back around. "By the way, I know who you are. Don't go expecting any special treatment just because of your name." He heads for his office.

Trixie stuffs a bag of frozen French fries into a bucket and dips it into the fryer.

(...outside McKinney's...)

The car pulls into the drive-thru lane. Timmy leans his head out the window to better accommodate the speaker box.

"Welcome to McKinney's. How may I help you?", states a garbled voice in a tone suggesting that the person had done this one time too many.

"Yeah. I'd like three cheeseburgers, a double cheeseburger, four medium fries and four colas." Vicky clears her throat. "Excuse me; three colas and one diet cola."

"That'll be $18.45. Pull up to the next window."

Timmy rolls up his window and follows the instruction. After a few moments, the food is ready. Trixie opens the window, bags in hand.

"Here you are, sir. Have a nice..." Trixie stops suddenly when she sees to whom the food is going. "...day."

Timmy looks surprised to see his ex-girlfriend working here, of all places. "Well, this is a shock." Trixie groans as she hands off the bags.

(...the street...moments later...)

Timmy sets his drink in the cup holder and his food on the floor. The women, meanwhile, scramble for what is theirs. Timmy slams on the brakes. The ladies manage to hold on to their food.

"What the hell was that about?", demands Vicky.

Timmy looks at a pair of squirrels in front of the car. From the point of view of the on-looker, they look like regular squirrels.

Tootie looks to her boyfriend. "What is it, Timmy?"

The squirrels run from the car's path. Timmy smiles a bit. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

The car starts moving again. The "squirrels" look at it from the sidewalk...and smile. Their outward 'normal' appearance melts away, leaving a pink one and a green one.

"You know something, Cosmo?"

"What's that, Wanda?"

"I think that Timmy's going to be all right."

He puts his arm around her. "I think so, too."


	12. Epilogue

Chapter 12 - Epilogue

...Trixie worked at McKinney's for the whole of her academic career. She was named 'employee of the month'...after 20 months. She attended Dimmsdale University where she, on occasion, saw the young lovers whose lives she sought to ruin. She ultimately realized that the world wouldn't end if she didn't get her way. Her grades improved significantly, leading to her father accepting her back into her privileged lifestyle. To the surprise of both of them, she liked being independent. Years later, she found success as a model. Though she had many admirers, she took interest in a photographer...

...Vicky's novel "My Life as a Teenage Babysitter" was a success. It sold well on the non-fiction charts...and did even better in horror circles. She moved to Baltimore, where she was able to make a comfortable living. Though she never completely warmed to the idea of Timmy dating her sister, she did attend their wedding as the maid of honor. Unlike Tootie, she never quite found that special someone. After a while, she chose not to; in her own words, she was a 'confirmed bachelorette'...

...A.J. stayed in touch with Timmy and Chester during his years at Harvard; for years, they joked that he'd end up there at 14. As one would expect, he did very well in his classes. After college, he tried on such professions as computer scientist, nuclear physicist and stock analyst to little avail. Thanks to some connections he made, he was able to launch a popular internet search engine known as "Eureka!"...

...Chester followed his two-year stint at Dimmsdale Community College with a job at an auto shop. While driving home one night, he gave a ride to an old man on the street. A couple of weeks later, the old man died. As it turned out, the old man was quite wealthy, but felt that no one in his family was worthy of his fortune. In his will, he bequeathed his fortune to Chester. He didn't have to think very hard about what he'd do with it. Let's just say that he allowed A.J. season tickets...

...Timmy & Tootie remained very much in love, despite the occasional squabble. They decided to wait a few years before marriage. Tootie became a teacher, while Timmy found work as a software designer at a big company. Given the hectic natures of their respective jobs, the two of them, more often than not, had little time for their children, as much as they loved them. The babysitter they'd hired was no help at all; her attitude ran toward mind games and condescension. Yet, the son and daughter were always in good spirits at the end of the day. Timmy had sometimes wondered where his children obtained their pink and green hamsters, but thought it best not to question it too much...

The End

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A/N: If I didn't already say anything, this is my first "Fairly Oddparents" story.

I kind of owe my inspiration for writing this to BratChild2, whose own stories are primarily responsible for me being a Timmy/Tootie supporter. (BTW, if you're reading this, _please_ bring the one-shots back!) To be honest, I used to dislike the pairing, but I had an epiphany: Tootie's not bad, she's just hyper. If and when she calms down, her and Timmy will be great together.

You might be wondering about the absences of a few characters (Tad, Chad, Veronica, Francis). I left them out as I felt they weren't pertinent to the main story. If you're still unsatisfied with that, let's say they were...around.

I'm also sure some of you are thinking 'Why did you humanize Vicky?'. In my opinion, some of the later episodes and especially "Channel Chasers" over-exaggerated her nastiness to the point where it was impossible to watch the show without a great amount of eye-rolling. Speaking of "Channel Chasers", it kills me that otherwise talented authors have taken some of the more ludicrous elements as canon. What's more, her turn-around helps reinforce the moral, which I stated at the outset.

I enjoyed giving time to Vicky and Tootie's parents, which I named Flanagan. Why, you ask? Well, Vic has red hair, so I thought to myself, 'he must be Irish'. (Just an assumption on my part, not a slight.) I referenced a few pieces of fanart in the fifth chapter, including a superb family portrait (how Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan should've looked in "Channel Chasers") from a DeviantArt denizen known as 'the artrix'.

I think this story was a good deal more dramatic than anything I've written before. I hope you enjoyed reading it and spotting the references. (I throw those in from time to time.)

Have a nice day.


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